Authors: Carolyn Arnold
Tags: #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Hard-Boiled, #Police Procedurals, #Series
Eleven (46 page)
“I’m being
truthful. You’re intelligent like he is.”
“Again flattery only works on the weak-minded.” She leaned down further over me. “Are you ready to die?”
The blade lowered. I reached for the gun. The weight didn’t feel right. I pulled the trigger, heard the click. Amanda laughed. “You didn’t think I’d be stupid enough to leave it loaded?”
I gripped on the wrist of her hand that held the knife.
“You can’t stop me!”
I squeezed it tighter. Amanda screamed. Her hand released the knife. She came at my throat with both hands. I held her back with one arm and tossed the knife toward the corner where Paige sat.
“To your left,” I called out.
“No!” Amanda rose from me and charged toward Paige. I took the gun from her father’s torso, aimed directly at her brain stem and pulled the trigger.
Amanda’s body flew forward.
“Brandon!”
I hurried over and pulled the dead woman off Paige. I lifted Paige’s blindfold. “The nightmare’s over.”
Paige took a deep breath.
I traced a finger down her nose and went to kiss her lips.
“Great job, Kid.”
I turned around to see Jack, Zachery, and a few uniforms standing behind them.
“I catch the serial killer and I’m still Kid?”
Paige smiled at me as I undid the ropes on her.
“You have to earn a name, Kid.”
Paramedics came in the room and tended to Mr. Knowles. I pulled up from my haunches, helped Paige up, and went over to Jack. “He’s not her real father.”
Jack’s smile slanted higher to the right, his eyes pinched. He put a hand on my shoulder. “Yeah, we know, Kid. Lance Bingham is. Turns out Anna Knowles had an affair on her husband. When she wouldn’t leave him to be with Bingham, he snapped and saw it as his job to punish her.”
“Anna was Bingham’s stressor.”
“And when Amanda found out about the lie, she sought out her real father. Obviously she found someone she could relate to.”
“Obviously,” I said.
All of us glanced over at the paramedics working on Keith Knowles.
“Of course somehow you pieced this all together.” Jack’s eyes held the question,
how.
“Well, I had a bit of time to think. If Amanda was Bingham’s daughter, it would create a strong enough bond to make her capable of such horrible things. She would follow in his footsteps to feel like she belonged. With her mother dead and uncertain who her real father was, she’d feel like she lived her life with strangers. She was the perfect find for Bingham.”
“Hmm.”
A paramedic said to us, “Looks like he’s going to be all right. His blood pressure is a little low, but we’ll get him going on an IV for his blood sugars. A few days rest, and some stitches, and he’ll be fine.”
I couldn’t help but think as they loaded the man on a stretcher how he might be fine physically down the road, but psychologically, he’d have a long road ahead of him. I know I did.
Months later we had moved through several cases, most involving another killer after revenge or seeking justice for some cause. But my first case with the Behavioral Analysis Unit would never leave me. The case of the ten bodies buried in a small rural town of Salt Lick, Kentucky. Of a man and daughter who felt imperfect measured against godly standards, and who felt it their divine right was to execute punishment on those who fell short.
I sat at my desk in Quantico finishing up paperwork from a recent case, but my mind was still on the victims of Salt Lick and Sarasota.
The Sarasota PD had concluded their investigation into the shooting of Robinson, and Paige’s shot was ruled a good one. Officer Bryant was found guilty of tampering with evidence, was suspended, and would be serving time.
Amanda’s body was being buried in the lot behind the church, and Keith Knowles made his stand clear with the words,
man doesn’t have the right to judge, nor truly forgive.
Despite the irony that came with him being a former priest, and a confessional occupant, he was right. We are all people, all alike, fragile and strong. And regardless that these attributes came in different forms, shapes, and sizes, they are nonetheless what make us unique. And for that, who are any of us to point the finger at another man?
As for Bingham, he faced lethal injection. With connections tying him to twenty murders, there was no way for him to talk himself out of this. Although I supposed for a man like Bingham, he probably continued to scheme escape despite the odds against him.
Sean Atwood, who had served as the communicator between Amanda and Bingham, was charged with conspiracy to commit a crime. It was still being debated in the courts, though because it was hard to prove that he knew the contents of the letters.
As for the victims in Sarasota, we were able to obtain identities for three out of the five that had up until this point remained nameless. We requested DNA from Tammy Sherman, the aunt to Jenkins’ daughter and were able to give the man closure. He said he would finally have some peace in his life.
In Salt Lick, eight out of ten victims were identified including Robert Royster, Earl’s brother, and Kurt McCartney.
I closed the file folder and noticed Jack walking toward me with a cigarette perched in his mouth.
“Special Agent Fisher, are you finished with your report yet?”
I smiled. I had earned a name. It only took nearly being killed and a few more cases, but it never felt so great to have a name. “Almost there.”
“All right, Brandon but they’re serving wings and martinis tonight down at the pool hall.” He took the cigarette out for a second and smiled.
“I’ll catch up. One minute.”
As Jack walked away, I realized I was satisfied with my choices in life. As for the rest of it, the things that didn’t belong in any FBI report, Deb had moved out by the time I had returned from Sarasota. She hadn’t called, but I had received a letter from a lawyer with divorce papers. But even though life presented tougher situations than any job could, I had made it through a stronger person.
“You coming or what?”
I turned to see Paige. She smiled at me, her eyes happy and soft, vulnerable yet courageous.
“It’s going to be time to call it a night before we get there.”
“Let’s go.” I closed the file and got up.
Paige had become so much more to me than a team member. She had become my best friend. She had seen me both at my worst and my best and loved me in each scenario. I knew it hurt her deeply that I couldn’t commit to a relationship right now, but I also made it clear no one can know the future.
I wrapped an arm around her, and we headed for some cheap wings and beer. Maybe Jack would even give me another chance to earn my twenty back.
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Thirty missing women in the period of six years. Now another has been abducted.
One officer was right all along. Prince William County, Virginia has a serial killer preying on women.
With the recent abduction, the FBI is called in and Brandon Fisher's team gets the assignment. There is more to it than just one missing woman—this dates back decades. They delve into the past cases, hoping it will shed light on the investigation, but with the discovery of a body and the report of another missing woman, their efforts are further intensified. They begin narrowing in on the cases from the last six years.
What they find are heinous acts that rival what they witnessed in Salt Lick, Kentucky. They must stop a killer who plays out his twisted game of rape and torture—and they need to do so fast if there's going to be anyone left to save.
“The graves lay silent. The graves lay untouched. The graves lay silent. The graves lay untouched.”
He tapped his hand against his thigh as he repeated the chant. He had done everything right. He had made sure not to leave anything behind and had chosen only those who deserved to suffer and die.